


A Very Supernatural Christmas (3.08)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [53]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Episode: s03e08 A Very Supernatural Christmas, Flashbacks, Samulet, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:53:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In dis Chrizzle-themed episode, Sam n' Dean follow tha trail of a "anti-Santa" dat abducts its suckas by rockin they chimneys. Dean tries ta git Sam ta big-up Chrizzle like they used ta but Sam don't wanna accept dat it could be tha last one they'll spend together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

"Twelve Dayz of Chrizzle" (instrumental) plays

_SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: ONE YEAR AGO_

_INT yo. HOUSE- CHRISTMAS NIGHT_

Da livin room is decorated fo' Chrizzle. Da doorbell rings n' a funky-ass pimp opens tha door.

 **STEVIE  
** Merry Chrizzle, Grandpa.

 **GRANDPA  
** Oh ho ho, Merry Chrizzle ta you too, Stevie. (Gangbangs his wild lil' freakadelic grandson tight n' comes inside)

 **STEVIE  
** Did yo dirty ass brang me any presents, biatch?

 **GRANDPA  
** Now, why would I wanna do that, biatch?

 **STEVIE  
** ’Cause it’s Chrizzle.

 **GRANDPA  
** Oh! I thought Gangsta Claus brought tha presents at Chrizzle. Yo ass done been a phat pimp dis year, haven’t yo slick ass?

 **STEVIE  
** I have, I swear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **GRANDPA  
** Well, then, whoz ass knows, biatch? Maybe he’ll come.

  
CUT TO:

GRANDPA is dressin as SANTA next ta tha Chrizzle tree yo. Dude puts on a gangbangin' fake beard n' Gangsta’s basebizzle cap n' jinglez some bells. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STEVIE strutts part of tha way down tha stairs n' watches SANTA/GRANDPA take presents outta a funky-ass big-ass red bag.

 **STEVIE  
** Gangsta! (whispered)

SANTA/GRANDPA is still takin presents from his bag when suddenly thumpin soundz come from tha roof.

 **STEVIE  
** Reindeer playa! (whispered)

SANTA/GRANDPA looks trippin yo, but returns his thugged-out attention ta his bag. Mo' soundz is heard, like one of mah thugs is struttin on tha roof. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA/GRANDPA looks up yo, but tha soundz stop again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. Ash falls from tha chimney tha fuck into tha fireplace. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA/GRANDPA investigates while STEVIE watches from tha staircase. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly handz grab SANTA/GRANDPA n' pull his ass up tha chimney. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA/GRANDPA screams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is.

 **STEVIE  
** Gangsta, biatch?

One of SANTA/GRANDPA’s boots falls from tha chimney, wit bloodstains on dat shit.

  
A Chrizzle ornament explodes before a special title card appears.


	2. ACT ONE

_YPSILANTI, MICHIGAN: PRESENT DAY_

_EXT yo. HOUSE- DAY_

A hoe is lookin outside all up in tha glass door n' a biatch standz outside, bein rap battleed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **WOMAN  
** Um, mah daughta n' I was up in our beds. Mike was downstairs decoratin tha tree. I heard a thump on tha roof n' then I heard Mike scream. And now I’m poppin' off ta tha STD.

 **DEAN  
** And you didn't peep any of it, biatch?

 **WOMAN  
** Fuck dat shit, da thug was… da thug was just gone.

 **DEAN  
** Da doors was locked, biatch? There was no forced entry, biatch?

 **WOMAN  
** That’s right.

 **DEAN  
** Do anybody else gotz a key, biatch?

 **WOMAN  
** My fuckin muthafathas.

 **DEAN  
** Where do they live, biatch?

 **WOMAN  
** Florida.

SAM strutts outta tha house.

 **SAM  
** Thanks fo' lettin me gotz a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I be thinkin we, uh, gots just bout every last muthafuckin thang we need. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! We’re all set.

 **DEAN  
** We’ll be up in touch.

MRS. WALSH nods. DEAN n' SAM strutt down tha steps.

 **MRS. WALSH  
** Agents…

DEAN n' SAM turn around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **MRS. WALSH  
** Da five-o holla'd mah homeboy might done been kidnapped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** Could be.

 **MRS. WALSH  
** Then why haven’t tha kidnappers called, biatch? O-or- or demanded a ransom, biatch? It’s three minutes till Chrizzle. What is I supposed ta tell our daughter, biatch?

 **SAM  
** We’re straight-up sorry bout dat bullshit.

SAM n' DEAN strutt away n' MRS WALSH turns ta go inside.

 **DEAN  
** Find anything, biatch?

 **SAM  
** (Sighs) Stocking, mistletoe… all dis bullshit. (Gives DEAN suttin' outta his thugged-out lil' pocket)

 **DEAN  
** A tooth, biatch? Where was this, biatch? (Examines tha tooth)

 **SAM  
** In tha chimney.

 **DEAN  
** Chimney, biatch? No way a playa fits up a cold-ass lil chimney. It’s too narrow.

 **SAM  
** No way he fits up in one piece.

 **DEAN  
** Alright, so, if daddy went up tha chimney-

 **SAM  
** We need ta smoke up what tha fuck dragged his ass up there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 

 

**_INT. MOTEL- DAY_ **

Picturez of demons is pinned up on tha wall. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM is searchin tha Internizzle fo' shiznit bout demons. Da door opens n' DEAN strutts inside, carryin a funky-ass brown paper bag.

 **DEAN  
** So, was I right, biatch? Is it tha serial-killin chimney sweep, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Yep. It's, uh, it’s straight-up Dick Van Dyke.

 **DEAN  
** Who, biatch?

 **SAM  
** ”Mary Poppins", biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Who’s that, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Oh come on- never mind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! (Waves his hand)

 **DEAN  
** Well, it turns up dat Walsh is tha second muthafucka up in hood grabbed outta his fuckin lil' doggy den dis month.

 **SAM  
** Oh yeah, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **SAM  
** Da other muthafucka git dragged up tha chimney, too, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Don’t know. Witnesses holla'd they heard a thump on tha roof. (Dude shrugs, SAM also shrugs) So, what tha fuck tha hell do you be thinkin our phat asses dealin with, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Actually, I gots a idea.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Uh, itz gonna sound crazy.

 **DEAN  
** What could you possibly say dat soundz wild-ass ta me son, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Um… evil Gangsta. (Smiles)

 **DEAN  
** (Pauses n' then nods) Yeah, that’s crazy.

 **SAM  
** Yeah… I mean, I’m just sayin dat there’s some version of tha anti-Claus up in every last muthafuckin culture. (Shows DEAN some evil Gangsta pictures) Yo ass gots Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter n' shit. (DEAN takes tha pictures from SAM) Whatever you wanna call it, there’s all sortz of lore.

 **DEAN  
** Sayin what, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Sayin ... back up in tha day, Gangsta’s brutha went rogue n' now da perved-out muthafucka shows up round Chrizzle time yo, but instead of brangin presents, he punishes tha wicked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** By haulin they ass up chimneys, biatch?

 **SAM  
** For starters, yeah.

 **DEAN  
** So, dis is yo' theory, huh, biatch? Gangsta’s shady brother, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Well, ah-  I’m just saying, that’s what tha fuck tha lore say.

 **DEAN  
** Gangsta don’t gotz a funky-ass brutha n' shit. There is no Gangsta.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I know. You’re tha one whoz ass holla'd at mah crazy ass dat up in tha straight-up original gangsta place, remember n' shit. (Looks at DEAN, whoz ass looks down, maybe feelin a lil guilty. SAM turns back ta his computa n' sighs) Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I ... (sighs again, shuttin his fuckin laptop) gotta be wrong.

 **DEAN  
** Maybe, maybe not.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** I did a lil digging. Turns up both suckas hit up tha same place before they gots snatched. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** Where, biatch?

 

 

**_EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA’S VILLAGE- DAY_ **

Christmas noize plays, lil pimps is playing, n' playas bustin Chrizzle costumes is strutting.

 **DEAN  
** It do kind of lend credence ta tha theory, don’t it, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Yeah yo, but anti-Claus, biatch? Couldn’t be.

 **DEAN  
** It’s a Chrizzle miracle. Yo, bustin lyrics of, we should have one dis year. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** Have one what, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** A Chrizzle.

 **SAM  
** (Scoffs) Fuck dat shit, props.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, we’ll git a tree, a lil Boston market, just like when we was lil.

 **SAM  
** Dean, dem weren’t exactly Hallmark memories fo' me, you know.

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about, biatch? Our thugged-out asses had some pimped out Chrizzlees.

 **SAM  
** Whose childhood is you poppin' off about, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Oh, come on, Sam.

 **SAM  
** No! Just… no.

 **DEAN  
** (Surprised) All right, Grinch.

DEAN strutts away, while SAM standz still. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly he notices a reindeer’s statue is starin at his muthafuckin ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM looks uncomfortable.

 

 

**_FLASHBACK: BROKEN BOW, NEBRASKA. CHRISTMAS EVE, 1991_ **

_INT. MOTEL- NIGHT_

Reindeers pull Gangsta’s sleigh across tha sky on tha TV, which is playin “A Year Without Gangsta Claus”. SAM (8 1/2yo) is wrappin suttin' wit newspaper n' shit.

 **DEAN (12, almost 13yo)  
** What tha fuck iz that, biatch?

 **SAM  
** A present fo' Dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, right. Where’d you git tha scrilla, biatch? Steal it, biatch?

 **SAM  
** No. Uncle Bobby gave it ta me ta give ta his muthafuckin ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Said dat shiznit was real special. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.

 **DEAN  
** What tha fuck iz it, biatch?

 **SAM (sarcastically)  
** A pony.

 **DEAN  
** (Scoffs) Straight-up funky.

SAM continues ta wrap tha present. DEAN sits on tha couch next ta his ass n' picks up a magazine.

 **SAM  
** Dad’s gonna be here, right, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** He’ll be here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **SAM  
** It’s Chrizzle.

 **DEAN  
** Dude knows n' he’ll be here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Promise.

 **SAM  
** Where is he anyway, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** On bidnizz.

 **SAM  
** What kind of bidnizz, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know dis shiznit yo. Dude sells stuff.

 **SAM  
** What kind of stuff, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Stuff.

 **SAM  
** No Muthafucka eva drops some lyrics ta me anything.

 **DEAN  
** (Rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes) Then quit asking.

DEAN leaves SAM n' strutts ta tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude shoves garbage n' chicken-wrappers off of it n' opens tha magazine.

 **SAM  
** Is Dad a spy, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Mm-hmm yo. He’s Jizzy Bond. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** Why do we move round so much, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** ’Cause everywhere we go, they git sick of yo' face.

 **SAM  
** I’m oldschool enough, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass can tell me tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass don’t wanna know tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Believe mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** Is dat why we never rap about… Mom, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** (Tosses tha magazine away angrily n' standz up) Shut up! Don’t you eva rap bout Mom. Ever playa! (Headz fo' tha door)

 **SAM  
** Wait, where is you going, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Out.

DEAN shuts tha door behind his ass n' leaves SAM ridin' solo.

Da flashback ends.

 

 

**_EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA’S VILLAGE- DAY_ **

SAM is still lost up in memories. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis!

 **DEAN  
** You’d be thinkin wit tha 10 bucks it costs ta git tha fuck into dis place, Gangsta could scrounge up a lil snow.

 **SAM  
** (Awakenin from his fuckin lil' daydreaming) What, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Nothing. What is our slick asses lookin for, again, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Um… (Looks around) lore say dat tha anti-Claus will strutt wit a limp n' smell like dopes.

 **DEAN  
** Great. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So we’re lookin fo' a pimp Gangsta. Why tha dopes, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Think bout it, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. If you smell like candy, tha lil playas will come closer, you know, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** That’s creepy. (SAM chuckles) How tha fuck do dis thang know who’s been naughty n' who’s been sick, biatch?

 **SAM  
** I don’t know.

A playa bustin a Gangsta Claus costume sits outside a lil' small-ass barn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A biatch n' pimp strutt up ta his muthafuckin ass.

 **SANTA  
** So, Ronny, come sit on Gangsta’s knee. (Da pimp sits) Ah, there you go. Yo ass been a phat pimp dis year, biatch?

 **BOY  
** Yeah.

 **SANTA  
** Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Gangsta’s gots a special gift fo' you, biatch. (cacklez creepily)

 **DEAN  
** (Looks at Gangsta n' tha pimp speculatively) Maybe our phat asses do.

RONNY’s mutha takes his thugged-out arm n' leadz his ass away from tha Gangsta.

 **RONNY’S MOTHER  
** Come on, honey, let’s go.

A biatch up in a elf costume strutts up ta SAM n' DEAN.

 **ELFIN  
** Yo, wuz crackalackin', biatch? Yo ass is smokin Gangsta’s court. Can I escort yo' lil pimp ta Gangsta, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Uh…

 **DEAN  
** No. No. Uh yo, but straight-up mah brutha here (smacks SAM on tha shoulder) … itz been a gamelong trip of his.

 **ELFIN  
** (Looks at SAM like he’s a gangbangin' freak) Uh, sorry bout dat bullshit. No lil playas over… 12.

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, he’s just kidding. We only came here ta watch.

ELFIN looks at DEAN, whoz ass shakes his head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! ELFIN backs off.

 **ELFIN  
** Eww.

 **SAM  
** I-I didn’t mean dat we came here ta w- Y- (DEAN looks at SAM) Thanks a lot, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Thanks fo' dis shit.

 **DEAN  
** (Laughs n' suddenly turns serious) Peep it out.

SAM n' DEAN peep tha SANTA leave his chair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA strutts wit shitty limp.

 **DEAN  
** Is you seein this, biatch?

 **SAM  
** All dem playas strutt wit limps, right, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Tell me you didn’t smell dis shit. That was candy, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **SAM  
** That was Ripple. I think. Had ta be. (Dude looks at Gangsta again.)

 **DEAN  
** Maybe. We’re willin ta take dat chance, biatch?

 

 

**_EXT yo. HOUSE- NIGHT_ **

Inside tha IMPALA, SAM n' DEAN is spyin on a simple doggy den dat is decorated wit Chrizzle lights.

 **DEAN  
** What time is it?

 **SAM  
** Same as tha last time you asked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Here… (Handz DEAN a thermos) Caffeinate.

DEAN takes tha thermos from SAM n' tries ta pours fruity-ass malt liquor tha fuck into tha cup yo, but tha thermos is empty.

 **DEAN  
** Wonderful naaahhmean, biatch? (Suddenly da perved-out muthafucka scoffs) Sam.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Why is you tha pimp dat hates Chrizzle, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Dean ...

 **DEAN  
** I mean, I admit dat shit. Yo ass know, our crazy asses had all dem bumpy holidays when we was kids.

 **SAM  
** “Bumpy”, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** That was then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. We’ll do it right dis year. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** Look, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. If you wanna have Chrizzle, knock yo ass out. Just don’t involve mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** (Looks at SAM up in disbelief) Oh, yeah, that’d be pimped out. Me n' mah dirty ass makin cranberry molds.

They return ta watchin tha house. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA, still up in his bangin red cap yo, but up in a chronic tank top, looks outside, then closes his curtains.

 **DEAN  
** What’s up wit Saint Nicotine?

 **WOMAN’S VOICE  
** Oh, mah God!

SAM n' DEAN jump outta tha hoopty n' run ta tha doggy den wit they glocks drawn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN looks inside tha window of tha front door.

 **SAM  
** Huh.

 **DEAN  
** What, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Nothing. It’s just that, uh… well, you know, Mista Muthafuckin Gung Ho Chrizzle might gotta blow away Gangsta.

 

  
_INT yo. HOUSE- NIGHT_

DEAN opens tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA is chillin on tha couch, holdin a giant bong n' a funky-ass forty of whiskey. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SANTA standz up n' DEAN n' SAM quickly hide they guns.

 **SANTA  
** What tha hell is you bustin here?

DEAN looks round n' realizes SANTA’s only watchin TV.

**_MAN ON TV  
_ ** _I’m straight-up not interested, aiiight?_

**_WOMAN ON TV  
_ ** _Mistle mah toe. Roast mah chestnut. Egg mah nog._

DEAN looks at SAM, whoz ass shrugs.

 **SAM  
** Ah, w-

**_WOMAN ON TV  
_ ** _Jingle mah bells?_

**DEAN  
** (Starts ta rap- badly) S-silent night… Holy… (Dude looks at SAM, whoz ass bigs up him, shrugging, n' smiling)

 **DEAN & SAM  
**…night. (SANTA chucklez n' sits down ta trip off tha show) All is well…

 **SANTA  
** (Also rappin along) …all is dry.

 **SAM  
** Bright…

 **DEAN & SAM & SANTA  
**Round n' round… (They try ta rap although they don't remember tha lyrics.)

 **SAM  
** Da table… (Puts a hand on DEAN’s shoulder ta pull his ass away)

 

 

_EXT. LARGE HOUSE- NIGHT_

_INT. LARGE HOUSE- NIGHT_

“Silent Night” skits as a funky-ass pimp strutts down tha staircase ta a room up in which there be a big-ass Chrizzle tree fo' realz. Ashes fall tha fuck into tha fireplace from tha chimney. Da pimp standz up in front of tha fireplace.

 **BOY  
** Gangsta, you’re early.

Da pimp jumps back as tha fireplace grill falls up in front of his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude stares up in shock as a heavy-breathing, human-shaped creature strutts all up in tha livin room, goes upstairs n' entas tha muthafathas’ room fo' realz. A biatch screams n' a playa make muffled sounds. Da creature drags a funky-ass bag containin tha strugglin playa downstairs. There be a funky-ass bangin thump n' tha sound of flesh tearin as tha creature kills tha playa up in front of tha boy. Da creature stares down all up in tha boy, then grabs a cold-ass lil cookie from a plate n' smokes it while da ruffneck drags tha bag away from tha boy.


	3. ACT TWO

**CALDWELL HOME**

_EXT. LARGE HOUSE- DAY_

_INT. LARGE HOUSE- DAY_

**DEAN  
** So, that’s how tha fuck yo' lil hustla busted lyrics bout tha attack, biatch? “Gangsta took daddy up tha chimney”, biatch?

 **WOMAN (who has a funky-ass bruise on one eye)  
** That’s what tha fuck da perved-out muthafucka says, yes.

 **DEAN  
** And where was yo slick ass, biatch?

 **WOMAN  
** I was asleep n' all of a sudden (sniffs) … I was bein dragged outta bed, screaming.

 **SAM  
** Did yo dirty ass peep tha attacker, biatch?

 **WOMAN  
** (Shakes her head) Dat shiznit was dark, n' dat schmoooove muthafucka hit mah dirty ass yo. Dude knocked mah crazy ass out.

 **DEAN  
** (Nods) I’m sorry bout dat bullshit. I know dis is hard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** Yeah… um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you git dat wreath above tha fireplace, biatch? (DEAN looks round all up in tha wreath, n' blinks, a lil puzzled.)

 **MRS CALDWELL  
** Excuse me son, biatch?

DEAN looks at SAM, waitin fo' a answer n' shit.

 **SAM (shrugging, smiling, feelin embarrassed)  
** Just curious, you know.

 

  
_EXT. LARGE HOUSE- DAY_

 **DEAN  
** Wreaths, huh, biatch? Sheezy you didn’t wanna ask her bout her shoes, biatch? I saw some sick fannypacks up in tha foyer n' shit.

 **SAM  
** We’ve peeped dat wreath before, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Where, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Da Walshes’. Yesterday. It make me wanna hollar playa!

 **DEAN  
** I know. I was just testin you, biatch.

SAM scoffs.

They drive away up in tha IMPALA.

 

 

**_INT. MOTEL- DAY_ **

SAM is on tha phone.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would yo slick ass, biatch? Thanks, Bobby. (Dude hangs up) Well… we’re not dealin wit tha anti-Claus.

 **DEAN  
** What did Bobby say, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Uh, dat we morons yo. Dude also holla'd dat dat shiznit was probably meadowsweet up in dem wreaths. (Looks at his fuckin laptop.)

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dis shiznit son! Amazing. What tha hell is meadowsweet, biatch?

 **SAM  
** It’s pretty rare n' it’s probably da most thugged-out bangin plant up in pagan lore.

 **DEAN  
** Pagan lore, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, they used meadowsweet fo' human sacrifice. Dat shiznit was kind of like a… Chum fo' they gods. Godz was drawn ta it n' they’d stop by n' snack on whatever was tha nearest human. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Why would some muthafucka be rockin dat fo' Chrizzle wreaths, biatch?

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but not as wild-ass as it sounds, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, pretty much every last muthafuckin Chrizzle tradizzle is pagan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Chrizzle is Jizzy’s birthday. It make me wanna hollar playa!

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, Jizzy’s birthdizzle was probably up in tha fall. Dat shiznit was straight-up tha winta solstice gangbang dat was co-opted by tha Church n' renamed “Christmas”. But I mean, tha Yule log, tha tree, even Gangsta’s red suit- that’s all remnantz of pagan worship.

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck do you know that, biatch? What is you gonna tell me next, biatch? Easta bunny’s Jewish, biatch? (SAM say nothing) So you be thinkin we’re gonna dealin wit a pagan God, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, Dogg of tha winta solstice.

 **DEAN  
** And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buyin these fancy wreaths…

 **SAM  
** Yeah, it’s pretty much like puttin a neon sign on yo' front door sayin “Come bust a cap up in us”.

 **DEAN  
** Great.

 **SAM  
** (Readin a article on tha laptop) Huh… When you sacrifice ta Hold Nickar, guess what tha fuck he gives you up in return, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Lap dances, hopefully.

 **SAM  
** Mild drizzle n' shit.

 **DEAN  
** (Looks up tha window) Like no snow up in tha middle of December up in tha middle of Michigan.

 **SAM  
** For instance.

 **DEAN  
** Do we know how tha fuck ta bust a cap up in it yet, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, Bobby’s hustlin on dat n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do. We gots ta git into where they’re pushin dem wreaths.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be thinkin they’re pushin dem on purpose, biatch? Feedin tha suckas ta dis thang, biatch?

 **SAM  
** (exhales) Let’s smoke up.

 

 

**_INT. CHRISTMAS SHOP- DAY_ **

SAM n' DEAN enter n' shit. ("Ride mah balls wit boughz of holly" is playing)

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** Help you, thugs, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Uh, hope so. Uh, we was playin Jenga over all up in tha Walshes’ tha other night, and, uh… well, dat schmoooove muthafucka hasn’t shut tha fuck up since bout dis Chrizzle wreath, n' (to SAM) I don’t know, you tell his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** (Givin DEAN a look) Sure. (turns back ta tha shopkeeper) Dat shiznit was yummy.

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** I push a shitload of wreaths, muthafuckas.

 **SAM  
** Right, right yo, but- but you see, dis one would done been straight-up special. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Well shiiiit, it had, uh, it had, uh, chronic leaves, um, white budz on dat shit. Well shiiiit, it might done been made of, uh… meadowsweet, biatch?

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** Well, aren’t you a gangbangin' fussy one, biatch?

SAM looks taken aback, embarrassed.

 **DEAN  
** (Smiles) Dude is… (Dude laughs n' SAM looks at him, annoyed)

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** Anyway, I know tha one you’re poppin' off about. I’m all out.

 **DEAN  
** Huh. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Seems like dis meadowsweet stuff’s pretty rare n' expensive. Why make wreaths outta it, biatch?

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** Beats mah dirty ass. I didn't make dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **DEAN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck did, biatch?

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** Madge Carrigan, a local lady. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch holla'd tha wreaths was so special, she gave dem ta me fo' free.

 **SAM  
** Biatch didn’t charge yo slick ass, biatch?

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** Nope.

 **DEAN  
** Did yo dirty ass push dem fo' free, biatch?

 **SHOPKEEPER  
** Hell no. It’s Chrizzle. Muthafuckas pay a funky-ass buttload fo' dis crap.

 **DEAN  
** That’s tha spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 

 

**_INT. MOTEL- NIGHT_ **

DEAN opens tha door n' turns on tha light. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM bigs up his ass in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck much do you be thinkin a meadowsweet wreath would cost, biatch?

 **SAM  
** A couple hundred dollars, at least.

 **DEAN  
** This lady’s givin dem away fo' free, biatch? What do you be thinkin bout that, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Well, soundz pretty suspicious.

DEAN n' SAM take off they jackets n' sit on tha edge of they beds.

 **DEAN  
** Remember dat wreath Dad brought home dat one year, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass mean tha one da perved-out muthafucka stole from, like, a liquor store, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, dat shiznit was a funky-ass bunch of empty brew cans. That thang was pimped out. I bet if I looked round hard enough, I could probably find one just like dat shit.

 **SAM  
** All right. Dude… What’s goin on wit yo slick ass, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** What, biatch?

 **SAM  
** I mean, since when is you Bin Crosby all of a sudden, biatch? Why do you want Chrizzle so bad, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Why is you so against it, biatch? I mean, was yo' childhood memories dat traumatic, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, dat has not a god damn thang ta do wit dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Then what, biatch?

 **SAM  
** I-I mean, I-I just… I don’t git dat shit. Yo ass haven’t talked bout Chrizzle up in years.

 **DEAN  
** Well, yeah. This is mah last year. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** (Pause, lil' small-ass sigh) I know. That’s why I can’t.

 **DEAN  
** What do you mean, biatch?

 **SAM**  
I mean I can’t just sit around, drankin eggnog, pretendin every last muthafuckin thang’s all gravy, when I know next Chrizzle you’ll be dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
(DEAN nods)  
I just can’t.

DEAN nods, realizin tha sadnizz up in SAM’s voice. Both of dem is silent.

 

 

**_FLASHBACK, 1991_ **

_INT. MOTEL- NIGHT_

SAM is on tha couch readin a cold-ass lil comic book. DEAN strutts inside tha room, holdin a ounce ta tha bounce of groceries.

 **SAM  
** Thought you went out.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, ta git you dinner n' shit. (Tosses SAM packaged chicken) Don’t forget yo' vegetables. (Tosses his ass another ounce ta tha bounce of snack chicken, Funyuns)

DEAN takes off his jacket, sits down on his bed n' opens a thugged-out drank can. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sits on tha other bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** I know why you keep a glock under yo' pillow.

 **DEAN  
** (Lifts his thugged-out lil' pillow n' sees his wild lil' freakadelic gun) Fuck dat shit, you don’t. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stay outta mah stuff.

 **SAM  
** And I know why our slick asses lay salt down everywhere we go.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, you don’t. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shut up.

SAM turns round n' grabs suttin' under his bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It’s JOHN’s diary. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM tosses it onto tha nightstand between tha beds.

 **DEAN  
** (Standz up) Where’d you git that, biatch? That’s Dad’s muthafucka! He’s gonna kick yo' ass fo' readin dis shit.

 **SAM  
** Is monstas real, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** What, biatch? You’re crazy.

 **SAM  
** Tell mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** (Looks away, hesitates) I swear, if you eva tell Dad I holla'd at you any of this, I'ma end you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Promise.

 **DEAN  
** (Sits n' looks at JOHN’s diary) Well, tha straight-up original gangsta thang you gotta know is our crazy asses have tha coolest daddy up in tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! He’s a superhero.

 **SAM  
** Dude is, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Monstas is real. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Dad fights dem wild-ass muthafuckas yo. He’s fightin dem n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do.

 **SAM  
** But Dad holla'd tha monstas under mah bed weren’t real. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.

 **DEAN  
** That’s ’cause dat schmoooove muthafucka had already checked under there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. But yeah, they’re real. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack fo' realz. Almost every last muthafuckin thang’s real. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.

 **SAM  
** Is Gangsta real, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** (Smiles, shakes his head) No.

 **SAM  
** (Pauses, looks sad) If monstas is real, then they could git us. They could git mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** Dad’s not gonna let dem git you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** But what tha fuck if they git him, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** They aren’t gonna git Dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dad’s, like, da bomb.

 **SAM  
** I read up in Dad’s book dat they gots Mom.

 **DEAN  
** (Exhales) It’s fucked up, Sam.

 **SAM  
** If they gots Mom, they can git Dad ,and if they git Dad, they can git us.

 **DEAN  
** It’s not like dis shit. (Moves n' sits next ta SAM) Okay, biatch? Dad’s fine. We’re fine. Trust mah dirty ass. (SAM looks fucked up n' worried.) Yo ass aiiight, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. (Looks away)

 **DEAN  
** Yo, Dad’s gonna be here fo' Chrizzle. Just like he always is.

 **SAM  
** (Holdz back tears) I just wanna chill like a pimp, aiiight, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, aiiight.

SAM lies down on tha bed n' cries on tha fuckin' down-lowly. DEAN stays chillin on tha edge of tha bed.

 **DEAN  
** It’ll all be betta when you wake up. (SAM cries harder.) You’ll see. Promise.


	4. ACT THREE

_EXT yo. HOUSE- DAY_

SAM n' DEAN strutt up ta a funky-ass big-ass white doggy den wit Chrizzle decorations on tha lawn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh, biatch? Can’t you just feel tha evil pagan vibe, biatch?

DEAN knocks on tha door n' MADGE greets dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **MADGE  
** Yes, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Please tell me you’re tha Madge Carrigan whoz ass make tha meadowsweet wreaths.

 **MADGE  
** Why, yeaaaa I am.

 **DEAN (turns ta SAM wit a smile)  
** Ha! Bingo.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, biatch? Uh, well, we was just admirin yo' wreaths up in Mista Muthafuckin Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sylar’s place tha other day, biatch?

 **MADGE  
** Yo ass were, biatch? Well, aint dat meadowsweet just tha finest-smellin thang you eva smelled, biatch?

 **SAM  
** It is, it shizzle is. But tha problem is, is dat all you wreaths had sold up before we gots tha chizzle ta loot one.

 **MADGE  
** Oh, fudge biaaatch!

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass wouldn’t have another one dat we could loot from you, would yo slick ass, biatch?

 **MADGE  
** Oh, no, I’m afraid dem was tha only ones I had fo' dis season. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **SAM  
** Aww…

 **DEAN  
** Tell me something, why did you decizzle ta make dem outta meadowsweet, biatch?

  1. CARRIGAN comes down tha staircase inside tha house. Dude has a old-fashioned pipe n' a cold-ass lil cardigan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da two of dem together is straight-up 1950s.



**MADGE  
** Why, tha smell, of course biaaatch! I don’t be thinkin I’ve eva smelled anythang finer n' shit.

 **SAM  
** Yeah… um, you mentioned dis shit.

  1. **CARRIGAN  
** Whatz goin on, honey, biatch?



**MADGE  
** Well, just some sick thugs askin bout mah wreaths, dear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

  1. **CARRIGAN  
** Oh, tha wreaths is fine. Fine wreaths. Oh, care fo' some peanut brittle, biatch? (Dude offers dem peanut brittle)



DEAN reaches up ta take some yo, but SAM slaps DEAN’s arm away.

 **SAM  
** We’re aiiight.

 

 

**_EXT. MOTEL- NIGHT_ **

DEAN is sharpenin a wooden stake, while SAM uses tha laptop. Five other wooden stakes is on tha bed n' floor near DEAN.

 **SAM  
** (Claps his hands) I knew dat shiznit son! Somethang was way off wit dem two.

 **DEAN  
** What’d you find, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Da Carrigans lived up in Seattle, last year, where two abductions took place right round Chrizzle. They moved here up in January. All dat Chrizzle crap up in they doggy den- dat wasn’t boughz of holly. Dat shiznit was vervain n' mint.

 **DEAN  
** Pagan stuff, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Serious pagan stuff.

 **DEAN  
** So what, Ozzie n' Harriet is keepin a pagan god hidden underneath they plastic-covered couch, biatch?

 **SAM  
** I don’t know fo' realz. All I know is we gotta check dem out. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, what tha fuck bout Bobby, biatch? He’s shizzle everchronic stakes will bust a cap up in dis thang, right, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** (Looks all up in tha stake) Yeah, he’s sure.

 

 

**_EXT. CARRIGAN HOUSE- NIGHT_ **

SAM n' DEAN strutt toward tha house. Chrizzle noize is playin ("O Come All Ye Faithful") DEAN picks tha lock.

  
_INT. CARRIGAN HOUSE- NIGHT_

SAM n' DEAN each hold a wooden stake.

 **DEAN  
** (Looks all up in tha couch dat still covered wit plastic, whispers) See, biatch? Plastic. (SAM touches it too as DEAN shakes his head disapprovingly.)

DEAN goes tha fuck into tha livin room n' looks at all tha Chrizzle decor, while SAM goes ta tha hall, which be also decorated wit ornaments n' snow globes. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM goes tha fuck into tha kitchen n' sees platez of dem scooby snacks n' cakes yo. Dude shines his wild lil' flashlight on tha lock of a thugged-out door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** Yo, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

CUT TO: DEAN n' SAM strutt downstairs ta tha basement. DEAN points his wild lil' flashlight n' findz bones covered wit blood up in a big-ass bowl. They check tha room n' realize tha whole basement be lookin like a funky-ass butchery room rather than a storage room. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM findz a leather bag covered wit blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Dude looks disgusted n' moves ta another spot. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pokes a funky-ass bag dat is hangin from tha wall n' tha bag moves- one of mah thugs inside is struggling. MADGE grabs SAM’s neck from behind n' lifts his ass off tha ground as he yells up in surprise.

DEAN hears his ass n' comes hustlin.

 **DEAN  
** Sam!

MADGE pushes SAM against a wall n' holdz his ass by tha throat. DEAN runs ta his ass n' tries ta stake MADGE yo, but MR. CARRIGAN grabs his thugged-out arm n' knocks his head against a wall. DEAN falls ta tha ground, unconscious. MADGE looks at her homeboy, whoz ass smilez n' nodz n' looks back at SAM, whoz ass is strugglin ta breathe.

 **MADGE  
** Gosh, I wish you thugs hadn’t come down here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

SAM pornos his wild lil' flashlight ta tha CARRIGANS’ faces, which step tha fuck up monster-like when up in tha beam of tha flashlight but turn back ta aiiight outta tha light. MADGE slams SAMz head hard against tha wall n' lets his ass drop ta tha ground.


	5. ACT FOUR

_EXT. CARRIGAN HOUSE- NIGHT_

Da Chrizzle decorations on tha lawn is lit up wit lights n' Chrizzle noize plays.

  
_INT. CARRIGAN HOUSE- NIGHT_

A number of bowls n' a knife is set up on tha kitchen table. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN is tied up in chairs, back ta back.

 **SAM  
** Dean, biatch? Yo ass aiiight, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I be thinkin so.

 **SAM  
** (Sighs) So, I guess we’re dealin wit Mista Muthafuckin n' Mrs. Dogg. (DEAN nods) Sick ta know.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

Da CARRIGANS come tha fuck into tha kitchen, dressed up in colorful Chrizzle- themed sweaters.

 **MADGE  
** Ooh, n' here we thought you two lazybones was gonna chill straight all up in all tha funk stuff. (Giggles)

 **DEAN  
** Miss all this, biatch? Nah, we’re partiers.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** (Smokes his thugged-out lil' pipe) Isn’t he a kick up in tha pants, honey, biatch? You’re hunters, is what tha fuck yo ass is.

 **DEAN  
** And you’re pagan gods. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, why don't our laid-back asses just call it even, n' go our separate ways, biatch?

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** What, so you can brang mo' huntas n' bust a cap up in us, biatch? (Laughs) I don’t be thinkin so.

 **SAM  
** Maybe you should have thought bout dat before you went snackin on humans, now, huh, biatch?

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Oh now, don’t git all wet.

 **MADGE  
** Oh, why, we used ta take over a hundred tributes a year n' that’s a gangbangin' fact. (Put a napkin on DEAN’s lap). Now what tha fuck do we take, biatch? What, two, biatch? Three, biatch? (And put another napkin on SAM’s lap)

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Hardy Thugs here make five.

 **MADGE  
** Now, that’s not so bad, is it, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Well, you say it like dat- I guess you muthafuckas is tha Cunninghams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** You, mister, betta show our asses a lil respect.

 **SAM  
** Or what, biatch? You’ll smoke us, biatch?

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Not so fast. (Looks at MADGE whoz ass looks excited) There’s rituals ta be followed first.

 **MADGE  
** Oh, we’re just sticklaz fo' ritual. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** And you know what tha fuck kicks off tha whole shebang, biatch? (MADGE smiles)

 **DEAN  
** Let me guess… meadowsweet.

 **MADGE  
** Oh!

 **DEAN  
** Oh shucks, you’re all outta wreaths. I guess we’ll just gotta quit tha sacrifice, huh, biatch?

 **MADGE  
** Oh, don’t be such a gloomy Gus. (Put wreaths round DEAN’s n' SAM’s necks) There, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Ohh… Don’t they just look darling, biatch?

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Dope enough ta eat. (Smacks his fuckin lips) All righty-roo. (whips up a knife wit a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shhing) Step number two.

MR CARRIGAN strutts ta SAM carryin a knife n' a funky-ass bowl yo. Dude holdz tha bowl under SAM’s arm n' prepares ta cut his ass wit tha knife.

 **DEAN  
** Sammy?! Sammy?!

MR CARRIGAN slices SAM’s arm n' collects his blood up in tha bowl.

 **SAM  
** D-Don’t son! (Screams)

 **DEAN  
** Leave his ass alone, you lil hustla of a funky-ass biiiatch!

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Hear how tha fuck they rap ta us, biatch? Heh heh. To Gods, biatch? (MADGE takes tha knife n' bowl) Listen, pal, back up in tha day, we was worshiped by millions.

 **DEAN  
** Time have chizzled hommie!

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Tell me bout it fo' realz. All of a sudden, dis Jizzy characta is tha bangin' freshly smoked up thang up in town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. All of a sudden, our- our altars is bein burned down, n' we’re bein hunted down like common monsters.

 **MADGE  
** But did we say a peep, biatch? Oh ho ho, no, no, no, our phat asses did not. (MR CARRIGAN addz suttin' ta SAM’s blood up in tha bowl) Two millennium. (MR CARRIGAN picks up a tool) We kept a low profile; we gots thangs, a mortgage. Wh-What was dat word, dear, biatch?

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** We assimilated. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time.

 **MADGE  
** Yeah, we assimilated. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Why, we play bridge on Tuesdizzle n' Fridays. (Holdin a big-ass knife) We’re just like dem hoes else.

 **DEAN  
** You’re not blendin up in as smooth as you think, lady.

 **MADGE  
** This might pinch a funky-ass bit, dear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

MADGE comes closer ta DEAN n' slices his thugged-out arm just like MR CARRIGAN did ta SAM.

 **DEAN  
** (Screams) Yo ass biiiatch!

 **MADGE  
** Oh, mah goodnizz me biaaatch! Some Muthafucka owes a nickel ta tha swear jar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Oh, do you know what tha fuck I say when I feel like sbustin, biatch? (DEAN looks MADGE up in tha eyes, as she gestures wit her sharp knife up in cheesy emphasis) “Fudge.”

 **DEAN  
** (panting) I’ll try n' remember dat son!

 **MR CARRIGAN (picks up a pair of pliers)  
** Yo ass thugs have no clue how tha fuck dirty yo ass is. There was a time when lil playas came from milez around, just ta be chillin where yo ass is. (Dude standz up in front of SAM wit tha tool)

 **SAM  
** (Panicked) What do you be thinkin you’re bustin wit them, biatch?

MR CARRIGAN smiles.

 **DEAN  
** (Looks at MADGE) Yo ass fudgin bust a nut on me again n' again n' again n' I’ll fudgin bust a cap up in you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch?

 **MADGE  
** Straight-up phat hommie!

MADGE slices DEAN’s other arm n' he groans up in pain, while MR CARRIGAN grabs SAM’s hand.

 **SAM  
** No. No. Don’t.

MR CARRIGAN pulls tha nail of SAM’s index finger n' SAM screams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** (Holdz up tha nail) Oh, we gots a funky-ass balla!

Da CARRIGANS put all tha ingredients up in tha bowl n' stir dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **MADGE  
** What else, dear, biatch?

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Well, let’s see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Oh… (Hit his own head) dope Peta on a popsicle stick… (laughs) I forgot tha tooth.

 **MADGE  
** Oh, dear playa!

 **DEAN  
** (breathang hard) Merry Chrizzle, Sam. (SAM groans)

MR CARRIGAN picks up pliers n' grabs DEAN’s chin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Open wide… n' say, “Aaah.”

MR CARRIGAN puts tha pliers tha fuck into DEAN’s grill n' DEAN groans. Da doorbell rings.

 **DEAN  
** (With tha pliers up in his crazy-ass grill) Some Muthafucka gonna git that, biatch? (MADGE n' MR CARRIGAN look each other n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM looks relieved) Yo ass should git dis shit.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** (Rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes n' sighs) Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

DEAN sighs up in relief n' runs his cold-ass tongue round his cold-ass teeth.

 

CUT TO:

Da CARRIGANS open tha front door fo' realz. A NEIGHBOR bustin a chronic reindeer sweata rings a funky-ass bell n' holdz up a gangbangin' fruitcake.

 **NEIGHBOR  
** Merry Chrizzle! (Gives MADGE fruitcake)

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** I holla'd at you I smelled fruitcake!

 **MADGE  
** (Look grateful) Yo ass shouldn’t have.

 **NEIGHBOR  
** Oh, bite yo' tongue, it’s mah pleasure.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** It looks scrumptious muthafucka!

 **NEIGHBOR  
** Say, Neal n' I is goin caroling. Yo ass care ta join, biatch?

 **MADGE  
** Yo ass know we would-

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** It’s mah back. Darn thang’s givin me fits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast.

 **NEIGHBOR  
** Oh, well, that’s a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shame. Oh well, Merry Chrizzle.

 **MADGE  
** And ta you too, dear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **NEIGHBOR  
** Yo, is we still on fo' bridge tomorrow, biatch?

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** With bells on!

 **NEIGHBOR  
** Yes muthafucka! Okay, bye biaaatch!

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** Bye-bye.

They smile broad fake smiles. When tha NEIGHBOR’s gone, MR CARRIGAN drops tha fruitcake n' steps on it on tha way back ta tha kitchen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 

 

CUT TO:

MADGE n' MR CARRIGAN open tha door ta tha kitchen n' hurry inside.

 **MADGE  
** Now, where was we, biatch?

SAM n' DEAN is no longer up in they chairs. Da CARRIGANs peep one of tha doors close, n' turn round ta peep tha other door close like a muthafucka. SAM n' DEAN is each standin behind one of tha doors, as tha CARRIGANS try ta open dem wild-ass muthafuckas. DEAN pulls up a thugged-out drawer ta hold his fuckin lil' door closed n' goes ta help SAM.

 **DEAN  
** (Leanin one hand against tha door) What do our phat asses do now, biatch? Da everchronic stakes is up in tha basement son!

 **SAM  
** Well, we need mo' evergreen, Dean! (Looks all up in tha Chrizzle tree) I be thinkin I just found our asses some mo' n' mo' n' mo'. (Looks at big-ass cabinet next ta tha door) Help me git all dis bullshit.

SAM n' DEAN move tha cabinet up in front of tha door n' push tha Chrizzle tree over n' shit. They break branches from tha tree ta use as stakes fo' realz. All is silent when they approach tha kitchen door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly MR CARRIGAN tacklez DEAN ta tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! MADGE strutts up ta SAM.

 **MADGE  
** Yo ass lil thang. (Her grill momentarily distorts) I loved dat tree.

SAM raises his stake. MADGE hits SAM hard n' his schmoooove ass crashes tha fuck into tha couch n' onto tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. MR CARRIGAN punches DEAN a fuckin shitload of times up in tha face. MADGE strutts closer ta SAM n' dat schmoooove muthafucka hits her wit tha branches. MADGE be bout ta battle SAM when da perved-out muthafucka stabs her wit tha Chrizzle tree stake.

 **MR CARRIGAN  
** (Looks at his hoe n' screams) Madge!!!

SAM pushes tha stake deeper n' MADGE groans, while DEAN takes tha opportunitizzle n' hits MR CARRIGAN wit his branches. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pushes tha stake up in further n' MADGE falls ta tha ground, dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN stabs MR CARRIGAN, whoz ass screams up in pain, n' DEAN pulls it up n' stabs his ass again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. MR CARRIGAN lies dead, next ta his hoe. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM breathes heavily, while DEAN sighs up in relief. They peep tha dead bodies. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis!

 **SAM  
** Merry Chrizzle. (Looks at DEAN, smilez briefly n' sighs)

Da camera focuses on a funky-ass bizzle ornament dat is still on one of tha fucked up tree branches.


	6. ACT FIVE

**_FLASHBACK, 1991_ **

_INT. MOTEL- NIGHT_

It’s snowin outside. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM be asleep n' DEAN shakes his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Sam, wake up! (SAM wakes) Dad was here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Look what tha fuck his thugged-out lil' punk-ass brought.

DEAN looks round at a lil Chrizzle tree, decorated wit all dem lights, n' you can put dat on yo' toast.

 **SAM  
** Dad was here, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Look at all dis bullshit. We done cooked up a cappin'.

 **SAM  
** (Yawns) Why didn't tha pimpin' muthafucka try ta wake me up, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Dude tried to, like a thousand times.

 **SAM  
** Dude did, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** (Nods) Yeah. Did I rap da thug would give our asses Chrizzle, or what, biatch? (SAM looks around) Go on, dive in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

SAM jumps outta his bed n' hurries ta tha Chrizzle tree yo. Dude findz two presents wrapped wit Chrizzle- themed gift wrap. One of dem has chronic shiny bow. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sits on tha couch n' unwraps his wild lil' first gift. DEAN sits on tha other end of tha couch n' watches, excitedly.

 **DEAN  
** (Smiles) What tha fuck iz it, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Sapphire Barbie.

 **DEAN  
** (Chuckles) Dad probably be thinkin you’re a girl.

 **SAM  
** Shut up! (Throws tha Barbie onto tha ground)

 **DEAN  
** Open dat one.

SAM opens tha other present n' findz a cold-ass lil cheerleadin stick yo. Dude looks at DEAN.

 **SAM  
** Dad never flossed, did he, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, da ruffneck did, I swear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** Dean…. Where’d you git all dis stuff, biatch?

DEAN realizes his schmoooove ass can’t lie no mo' n' looks down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** (sighs) Sick doggy den up tha block. (SAM looks away) I swear I didn’t know they was chick presents, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. (SAM nods) Look, I’m shizzle Dad would done been here if his schmoooove ass could. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** If he’s kickin dat shit, yo.

 **DEAN  
** Don’t say dis shit. Of course he’s kickin it yo. He’s Dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

SAM nodz n' DEAN looks sad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM takes tha present da thug wrapped from tha pocket of a jacket dat is lyin over tha arm of tha couch yo. Dude holdz it up ta DEAN.

 **SAM  
** Here, take all dis bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** No. Fuck dat shit, that’s fo' Dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** Dad lied ta mah dirty ass. I want you ta have dat shit.

SAM continues ta hold up tha gift. DEAN looks at it n' at SAM.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass sure, biatch?

 **SAM  
** (Nods) I’m sure.

DEAN looks all up in tha gift again n' again n' again n' takes it yo. Dude unwraps tha gift, which be a gold amulet on a funky-ass black string.

 **DEAN  
** Nuff props, Sam. I-I gots a straight-up boner fo' dat shit.

DEAN puts on tha necklace. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM nods.

Da flashback ends.

 

 

_INT. MOTE- NIGHT_

SAM looks touched wit his own memory. Ella Fitzgerald’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Chrizzle” skits as DEAN strutts tha fuck into tha room. Da camera focuses on tha phat gold rope SAM gave his ass up in 1991 yo. Dude looks surprised cuz SAM has decorated tha room wit a Chrizzle tree n' “Merry Chrizzle” sign. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Yo dawwwwg! Yo ass git tha brew, biatch? (Holdin a cold-ass lil cup of eggnog)

 **DEAN  
** (Looks kind of amazed) What’s all this, biatch? (Looks all up in tha decorations up in tha room)

 **SAM  
** What do you be thinkin it is, biatch? It’s- it’s Chrizzle.

DEAN looks at SAM, whoz ass lets up a thugged-out deep breath.

 **DEAN  
** What made you chizzle yo' mind, biatch?

 **SAM  
** (Doesn’t answer) Here, uh ... try tha eggnog. (Gives his ass a cold-ass lil cup) Let me know if it needz some mo' kick. (Dude holdz up a funky-ass forty of whiskey)

DEAN sips it, coughs, n' looks surprised all up in tha taste.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, we’re good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg!

 **SAM  
** (Happy) Yeah, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** (Smiling) Yeah.

When SAM looks away, DEAN chizzlez his wild lil' fuckin expression, like it tastes toxic.

 **SAM  
** Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Well, uh, gotz a seat. Let’s do… Chrizzle stuff, or whatever n' shit.

DEAN looks all up in tha Chrizzle tree, which is decorated wit lights n' hoopty air fresheners.

 **DEAN  
** (Nods, happy) All right, first thangs first. (SAM sits on tha couch n' DEAN pulls up a cold-ass lil chair yo. Dude takes two packages wrapped up in brown paper from a plastic bag n' holdz dem up ta SAM) Merry Chrizzle, Sam.

 **SAM  
** (smiling, takes tha gifts) Where’d you git these, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Someplace special. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. (SAM looks at him) Da gas mart down tha street (SAM laughs) Open dem up.

 **SAM  
** Well, pimped out mindz be thinkin alike, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (SAM reaches under tha couch fo' two packages wrapped up in newspaper, which he gives ta DEAN)

 **DEAN  
** (Surprised) Fo' realz, biatch? (Takes tha gifts)

 **SAM  
** There you go.

 **DEAN  
** Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

SAM opens his wild lil' first gift, which is two porn magazines.

 **SAM  
** (Laughs) Skin mags muthafucka! (DEAN nods, satisfied wit SAM’s erection) and… (opens tha other gift) Shavin cream.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass like, biatch?

 **SAM  
** (Smiles) Yeah. Yeah. (Nods)

It’s DEAN’s turn ta open his thugged-out lil' presents yo. Dude chucklez n' unwrap tha gifts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast.

 **DEAN  
** Look at all dis bullshit. (Dude lifts his thugged-out lil' presents, it’s a cold-ass lil candy bar n' a funky-ass forty of oil) Gin N Juice fo' me n' gin n juice fo' mah baby. (SAM nods) These is phat. Tthanks.

SAM  
Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! (Suddenly there’s a lil' bit of sadnizz up in his wild lil' face)

 **DEAN  
** (Lifts his wild lil' freakadelic glass of eggnog) Merry Chrizzle, bro.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah. (Lift his wild lil' fuckin eggnog n' cook up a toast wit DEAN’s glass) Here, Merry Chrizzle.

SAM n' DEAN is silent, knowin dat dis could be they last Chrizzle together n' shit. They each take a thugged-out drank of they eggnog n' DEAN whistlez softly all up in tha taste.

 **SAM  
** Yo, Dean, y-. (SAM looks fucked up n' bout ta say somethang yo, but dat schmoooove muthafucka hesitates, then sighs n' looks at DEAN again) Do you feel like watchin tha game, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** (Smilez up in relief) Absolutely.

 **SAM  
** (Nods) All right.

SAM standz up n' turns on tha TV. They peep tha winta footbizzle game. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM glances at DEAN n' DEAN smilez yo. Dude glances at SAM n' takes another drank of his wild lil' fuckin eggnog. Da camera switches ta tha outside of tha room n' we peep DEAN n' SAM all up in tha window, pluggin they Chrizzle moment, wit a big-ass picture of a funky-ass barn up in a snowy field up in tha background. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It’s snowin outside. Da camera pans up n' we peep Chrizzle lights reflected up in tha paint of tha IMPALA, which is parked outside tha room.


End file.
